Say
by Canadino
Summary: Now that Spain had discovered how he felt, telling was the next obsticle...Spain/SItaly


**Disclaimer: If Axis Powers Hetalia were mine, I wouldn't need to write fanfics. If any of these songs were mine, I wouldn't be writing fanfics.**

Background music: Say – John Mayer

**Minimal fluff 09!**

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Say

Spain was the nation of undying passion and exuberance but it's hard to be passionate and exuberant when you don't really know what you're being passionate and exuberant about. All Spain knew was that whenever he saw Romano, he just got the urge inside him that was clawing and biting at his insides and he just had to let it out and say, to scream in the air…

Scream what, exactly? He didn't even know what he was feeling and whenever Romano caught him staring, the smaller nation would (literally) knock some sense into him.

Finally, when he got tired of nursing the same wounds (Romano, like lightning, struck many times in the same place), he went to France, who seemed to know with a clear eye many unusual things that involved the nations. And they were neighbors so it saved Spain from sailing over to talk to an arrogant England or to over-enthusiastic America.

"Ah, my dear Spain, it's quite clear what you have! It's a simple, simple case…of love!"

"Love?" Spain frowned as France came uncomfortingly close to him but it wasn't the lack of space that disturbed him.

"It's quite easy, really, hearing what you have to say. It's obvious you really like Italy, right?"

"Well…yes, I like Romano. I've always liked Romano, even when he was a kid. He was a bratty little kid but he grew on you." Spain pondered his over as France felt him up. "But is it okay?"

"Eh?" It was hard for France to speak since he had his mouth in the midst of Spain's dark curls.

"I mean, it's not pedophilia, is it? He _is_ a lot younger than me…"

"What?! Spain, what are you saying?! Look at England and America, that sadistic and horrible union of the two stupidest nations in the world! And come on, face it, there's not much choice we can get with the nations since we're basically old all around…but if you're worried about the age gap, there's always _moi_…"

"What if he doesn't like me back?" Spain asked, changing the subject suddenly. That was a horrific feeling. After all, Romano always acted like he hated him, except when he was being honest, when in fact he was still as violent as ever. Perhaps Romano didn't really mind him but surely he was pushing the envelope if what France said was true, that he was in love with the Italian…would it change everything?

"Ah, there's nothing you can do about it! When you're struck with such passion, there's nothing you can do but let it out! Keeping it in is so unhealthy, my dear Spain, you just _must_ tell him! Immediately!"

"I guess you're right." Spain slipped his shirt back over his head. When did that get taken off? He didn't quite know sometimes. Time passed in odd ways at France's house. "I'll go tell him."

"No, no, no, not like that! That's not romantic enough! And besides, aren't you always whining about how Italy never really pays much attention to what you say anyway? You've got to show him!" Suddenly throwing up a shower of rose petals, France turned on the sparkles. "Show him your _amour_!"

"Show him?" Spain immediately struck on an idea. "Yes, you're right! Gracias, France!"

"No problem, my dear Spain. And if it doesn't work out, you can always give Italy to _me_…"

"Um, maybe not." Spain rushed out of the house before France could throw a loud, weepy fit. Dramatic, that France.

--

He had worked hard on his latest work, with Feliciano's help (Romano's younger brother gladly assisted him no questions asked, since it had to do with food), made one of Romano's favorite foods: pizza, with the toppings spelled out to say 'I love you' in large tomato/pepperoni glory. Successful, he called Roman over for dinner.

Spain was ready for an onslaught of emotion, but when Romano walked in the door and saw the food, the only thing the Italian did was say, quite loudly, "Pizza!" while the curl on his head seemed to bounce in excitement. In only a few minutes, all of Spain's carefully constructed work was gone and Romano looked around for more food.

"Um…was that good?" Well, disappointment aside, it was his first time making the dish and his chef muse was taking over.

"Eh…it was edible." Coming from someone who had always ate his food and dismissed it as piles of shit, this was something coming from Romano's mouth. So Spain considered his a win, even if his message hadn't been pulled across.

Next strategy.

Another one of Romano's weaknesses: wine. So, to tackle that part, Spain had gotten some specially made wine with a label that read 'I love you' when the bottle was empty. He gave the bottle to Romano, warning him not to drink the whole thing in one gulp, so as not to spoil the taste (and throw the message away in a drunken stupor), but before he could finish his sentence, Romano had uncorked the bottle and drained away half of it. After a few breaths, he took down the rest and stared at the bottle funnily before turning to Spain with a flushed face. His plan seemed to have gone without a hitch when Romano started laughing.

"That was the crappiest wine I have _ever_ tasted. You suck at picking wine, dammit!" Chuckling, the Italian dropped into his arms with a sleepy, "I'm drunk, dammit, carry me home, Spain."

So…a win but not a win.

What else did Romano like? Both he and his brother Feliciano were lady-killers but it would be rather impersonal to have a woman tell Romano that Spain liked him. How cowardly would he look. So that was scratched out. Spain seriously considered giving up and just out telling Romano how he felt but it didn't seem…passionate enough, so until he exhausted all options, he was going to have to keep trying.

"Eh? Spain-san, coming to me for help?" Japan looked extremely surprised when Spain approached him at the next world meeting, after which America had screamed his own praises while England countered with rapid fire insults. Then Russia talking about world domination, sunflowers, and a cowering Lithuania. The usual business. Japan seemed to be in a healthy…well, whatever it was called…with Greece, so he supposed he should give it a try the ol' Japanese way.

"Well…Greece-san and I have been close for a while…it just happened…I suppose it won't happen between you and Italy-san?"

"Probably not." Knowing Romano, _definitely_ not.

"Hmm…I don't know if this will work, but there's a tradition of giving the potential love interest a love letter. A lot of youths do it back home. It's a popular way that hasn't died out yet…so I guess you could try it. I'm sorry if it doesn't work. You could always tell him."

Love letter! It was the perfect combo of passionate emotion and modest decency! Spain set out to writing a letter that practically poured the contents of his soul onto paper but when he gave it to Romano, the Italian merely ripped the unopened envelope to shreds. "I hate reading letters. Why don't you just tell me what you want me to know?"

"Because!" Spain was aware he sounded pitifully desperate at the moment. "It's not…passionate enough!"

Romano chuckled. "Well, have it your way."

So Spain tried the round-about way by giving Romano gifts that would hint at his intention. Showering the foul-mouthed nation with gifts of roses and tomatoes (known as love-apples, oh, how clever), Spain hoped Romano wasn't dense enough not to see the real purpose of these presents. However, whenever he delivered them, Romano would just take them and slam the door in his face.

Spain wondered if he should use the nation's expenses to spell out his message via plane, but his boss put a stop to those thoughts immediately.

Spain even sought Feliciano's help, but he didn't say his intention in case the loose-lipped younger brother accidentally spilled his secret to his older brother (then again, he had told France…bad move). In the midst of cooking pasta, however, Feliciano didn't seem too bothered.

"Eh? Telling Romano something? Hmm…well, I don't know, but I think it would be best to just tell him. He doesn't get a lot of things if you hint at him. He's kind of stubborn like that. But it should be okay for you, Spain! He listens to you!"

Oh, did he wish. If Romano really listened to him, he wouldn't have had to have such a hassle when they were younger.

When he left the Italians' villa, he had the fortune (or misfortune, however way you see it) to run into Romano, who searched him with narrowed eyes. "You just came from my house. My brother's the only one home. What were you doing, dammit?"

"Nothing! I was just talking to him!"

"_Sure_ you were. Keeping in mind that he was always your favorite when we were younger."

"Nothing happened. I'm not interested in your brother that way."

"Then you are interested in him in other ways! What about me, dammit?"

It suddenly struck Spain that it was evening and the sky was pretty colors of pink and purple and orange and goddamn it, they were right next to the Mediterranean Sea and it was a pretty epic ambiance so why the hell not? He had been waiting for a moment just like this one and…

"I _said_, what about _me_?"

"You? I…" Alright, now that he finally had a chance to say it, the words just seemed so small and insignificant in his mouth. Why did all the words in the sentence have to be so short? But if he elongated it with long adjectives, then Romano would lose interest and walk away. And if he started sounding cliché, Romano probably would throw him into the sea. Oh, predicaments!

"I'm waiting."

"I love you, Romano." They were such awkward words but everyone said them and hold on, Romano didn't even look surprised and the Italian, what did he just say?

"I know."

"W-what? You _knew_? How? Since when?" Spain was aware he was sputtering, which made Romano smirk.

"Since the pizza incident. I read it before I ate it, you idiot. I didn't think you were being serious but then the wine bottle said it and then you gave me a love letter and roses…you're such a loud-mouth, so I was waiting until you'd finally _say_ it. I guess you just didn't have the balls until now to."

"No, I _wanted_ to, but France said…"

"Oh, you're going to listen to _France_ now?" Spain again was aware how stupid he sounded, but hey, he was a desperate man.

"So when are you gonna kiss me? Or are you gonna spell that out in sauce now?"

"Romano, do you like me back or are you just going to mock me until you're satisfied?"

Romano cocked his head challengingly. "Oh, I like you plenty, so I'm going to do both. It doesn't matter if it's okay with you. So are you gonna kiss me now? Is the moment _passionate_ enough for you?"

"Do you _want_ me to?"

Now it was Romano's turn to blush. "_No_. Stay away from me! What are you do—" Call him a stickler to storylines but the shut-up kiss was always effective. When Romano finally pushed him away, Spain felt that he had gotten back the pride that Romano had so brutally murdered just a few seconds ago.

"Aagh, I hate you, you asshole." Romano turned away but let Spain keep his hold on him. Spain chuckled. "You were always cute when you're honest."

"Hmph. I'm _always_ cute, you idiot."

Owari

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Notes: I am positively _spoiling_ you guys with all my Spain/SItaly fics. Many favorites abounded in my emails as of late. I guess the Hetalia category really is full of love, ay? I'm so used to having Romano being tsudere that I wondered, why not make Spain NOT dense for once? Although he sort of is. Oh, you lovable Spain, you! Review or Romano will throw you in the Mediterranean Sea. Attached to a fifty ton weight.


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